


Not Quite a Witch

by Yubell22



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Empathy, Hockey, M/M, Magic, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Telepathy, Witches, zimbits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7288003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yubell22/pseuds/Yubell22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric had grown up knowing he was different; however, for more than just his sexuality.  He may have come from a long line of magic, but his powers were unlike anyone else’s in his family.  So now, he has to battle between his attraction to his team captain, and the fact that the powers he has always hated are changing.</p>
<p>--- <br/>Technically only finished with an outline -proceed with caution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stronger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A random thought acquired a plot and here we are!  
> \---------------  
> P.S. - Come check me out on tumblr at Ittsybittsybunny  
> Also, special thanks to my Betas Danya (who teaches me about magic and witches) and Mo (who fixes my grammar) :)!

For as long as Eric Richard Bittle could remember, he'd always been a little bit strange. Not strange in the, eating paste and boogers way, but in the fact that he always had magic around him. This wouldn't necessarily have been strange given his family's heritage if it weren't for the fact that none of their magic had ever manifested quite like his had. 

Eric came from a long line of "kitchen witches." Those who were gifted with this particular set of powers were often fantastic at what one might refer to as “domestic pursuits.” In the magical world these witches, who were not really witches in the sorcery sense, or all women even, could be gifted with powers that ranged anywhere from being able to cast basic household spells, work with potions, or make food appear out of thin air. These magical beings were often thought to be a human descendant of faes and other creatures that came from nature. However, even though Eric shared many similarities with his mother and grandmother, besides his exemplary skills in the kitchen, he had no real traits of the classic kitchen witch.

When he was younger he had once asked his father why his powers were so different from that of his family's matriarchs. His father had, of course, told him that it was most likely because he took after his much less magically inclined side of the family, if you could call being able to shape-shift less magically inclined. 

According to his father's side of the family, as long as you weren't literally casting spells, you weren't really "magically inclined." In reality, his father had done little to assuage his fears, because shape-shifting was nothing like what he could do, in fact, it was even farther from his powers than his mothers were.

So this left the younger Eric Bittle with a dilemma, from where had his magic manifested? Were empathic powers and telepathy a strange combination of his parents’ magic, or was he simply the family black sheep? Then again, if kitchen witches and shape-shifters both were supposedly descended from those who were entirely inhuman, maybe the combination of being a child of both was enough to give him his own inhuman edge. 

That was a question indeed though, were any of them exactly human? No one fully human had access to any range of magic, no matter where it was pulled from. Nature and domestic magic was pulled from the faes, fire magic from the dragons, water magic from the ocean and its inhabitants, and the list goes on and on. All magic is descended from something, and so Eric had been raised differently from those around him.

His family had always lived in the south, but after Eric’s unfortunate run-in with his father’s football team, all a little too confident in their primal instincts, they had left their ancestral home for Madison, Georgia, which meant that Eric left the safety of a town run by magic, to another run by those who were fully human. In other words, he left one danger for another. 

Madison may not have a football team full of magically charged teenage boys, but it did still have regular ones, and regular teenagers may be even worse. Regular people don’t understand magic, and they fear those different from them. This of course meant that he had to be different in two ways. What human highschooler in Georgia is prepared for someone who can read their thoughts and feelings, let alone a five foot, 6.5 inch gay figure skater. 

So, he had two things he needed to hide about himself. He was already strange back home, why should he add insult to injury?

All in all, Madison wasn’t that bad once he’d started hockey. People there hadn’t known him his whole life, and so they didn’t wonder about him and his mismatched powers. In Madison, so long as he kept to himself in school and focused on hockey, a sport his father readily approved of, he could hide among the regular people. While he was living in Madison, he was relatively normal and as anonymous as one can be in small town Georgia, so he really didn’t mind. 

However, everything began to change around his 18th birthday, when a magical child’s powers begin to settle into their adult configurations. Basically, he was getting stronger.

At first Eric didn’t really notice the change, until one day when he was helping his mother prepare for a school bake sale and he started feeling particularly agitated. The longer he spent in the kitchen with her the worse it got, but he brushed it off as the simple struggle between a young man and his desire to make sure every single one of his mini pies was as picture perfect as the last. 

He kept working through each new item, one pie after the other, until the agitation started to feel more like a buzz, something in the back of his head and getting louder with each second. Then, as quickly as it had come, the buzzing began to slow and morph into something sounding a bit like a song. In fact, he was almost positive he knew exactly which one it was, but he couldn’t quite reach it. The words and melody seemed muted behind a glass curtain. He could almost make them out, but no matter how hard he tried it just seemed too distant. 

Finally, after nearly 5 minutes of semi-muted music, the sounds stopped, his hands, which had been temporarily idle during his moment of discomfort, felt usable again, and the tension released from his shoulders. Eric took a quick breath in and sighed as he began to repeat his pie making process. However, as would be his luck, his mother had been focused on him during his entire short ordeal.

“Dicky, are you alright?” she asked as her brow pinched slightly and she reached her hand out to touch him.

“Of course Mama, just thinking a bit. Nothing t’ worry about, I promise.” From the moment the words left his mouth, he knew she didn’t really believe him. He could still feel the concern rolling off her in waves, nearly overpowering his ability to keep other people’s emotions from affecting him. 

This was also a new development. His mother was one of the closest people in his life, and above anyone else, he could block her out. He had that kind of control over his powers, or at least he did until today. At this point though, he was counting himself lucky that he wasn’t hearing her thoughts. It was always much easier to block those out. Emotions were too chemical. They radiated off of people in waves, making them nearly impossible to avoid, but as long as he was aware of those feelings, he could keep them from becoming his own. The worst however, was when he didn’t notice, and he began broadcasting his own emotions like a homing beacon. 

Once when he was only 5, and had little control of his powers, they had watched a movie in class where a dog, who was not even a main character, had died, and he had set the entire class into a tearstained frenzy that could only be stopped when his mother was called in to calm him down.

“Really Mama, I’m fine,” he added. Finally, she seemed to believe him enough to stop giving him a motherly look of concern. After a few minutes everything seemed to be on its way back to completely normal when he started to hear the tune again, this time in startling clarity. Eric immediately looked up as he realized the sound was drifting around him rather than in his head. His mother, who had apparently been the one singing, stopped at his sudden movements and laughed.

“Sorry Baby, I just heard it on the radio on my way t’ the store this morning and now I can’t get the tune outta my head. I don’t even really know the words, but here I am singin’ ‘em anyway.” She laughed again as she looked at his face. “Is my singing really that bad Dicky?” she asked with a smile.

“No Mama, I think we might have a problem though. I could hear it before you know, the song. I think I could hear you thinkin’ it. That’s never happened before. I’ve always been able to block you out. I don’t know why it's different now, but I swear I could hear you. I just could.” His mother immediately stopped smiling then. He could feel the doubt and worry wafting off of her, as she looked him over with rapidly shifting eyes. 

_I don’t know how to help him. Mama might know, or might know someone to ask._

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“What do you mean honey?” He could feel her concern growing stronger, pulling closer to his skin like a blanket.

“Asking Moomaw, it’s a good idea.”

“Oh Baby,” she whispered as her voice began to crack, “I didn’t say that out loud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> Feel free to leave comments and/or kudos!


	2. Strange Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bitty begins to go down a dark path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plot developed more plot, so here is the chapter I didn't know would happen.  
> \---------------  
> P.S. - Come check me out on tumblr at Ittsybittsybunny  
> Also, special thanks to my Betas Danya (who teaches me about magic and witches) and Mo (who fixes my grammar) :)!

If Eric hadn’t been leaning against the kitchen counter at that moment, he was sure he would have fallen directly to the ground. He could read his mother’s mind, which technically wasn’t new information, but this was the first time he had ever done it without trying. Usually, his powers only manifested when he concentrated specifically on a person, or when that person was in enough distress to pull him in.

In other words, for the first time ever, his powers were changing.

He knew this was a possibility, since his mother and grandmother before her had both seen an increase of power leading up to and after their 18th birthdays. His mother had been able to cast real spells after her change, and his grandmother had been able to make fully prepared meals appear only by gathering together the ingredients. But of course, Eric’s powers were different, so who knew what was about to happen to him exactly.

“Dicky, sweetheart, I’m going to call MooMaw, okay? You just wait right here, I’m gonna grab the phone and be right back. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah Mama,” he replied as he grasped the side of the countertop, “I think I’m gonna go sit down anyway.” As long as he could keep himself balanced and stable, he would be fine. He just needed to stay focused.

Slowly, he wobbled over to the kitchen table and unceremoniously plopped down onto a chair. His mother was still watching him warily, but at the moment, he was trying his hardest to not read her emotions. It wasn’t really working.

Even after she left the room to go grab the landline from the living room, he could feel a trail of worry left in her wake. Then, as she picked up the phone to call his grandmother, he felt himself pulled forward.

It was a strange feeling, not quite physical, since he hadn’t actually moved from his location in the kitchen, but he could suddenly see the living room around him and a phone in his hands. Not that they were actually his hands, he realized a moment later. He couldn’t control them as they lifted the phone from its hook and deftly began to click numbers.

His mother’s hands then brought the phone up to his (her) head and he could hear the phone ring twice before his grandmother’s familiar voice answered the phone.

“Hey Suzie, I was wondering when I’d get a call from you this week. I’ve been feeling somethin’ strange for a while, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Felt like a chill, somethin’ crawling up my body and touching my face. Very strange.”

“Mama, something is happening. Dicky’s powers are changing. They’re getting stronger, like he can read my mind now, really read it. Not just drifting thoughts or feelings like before.”

“Oh boy,” she said as she paused to gather her thoughts, “I was afraid something like this might happen...You know, your Auntie Claire, the reader? Well, she was looking through her cards, crystals, and rune stones, and she called me up the other day. Said that there was an omen, but a split one. ‘There are two paths ahead of us,’ she said, ‘and someone has to make a choice.’

“What kind of choice, Mama?”

“I dun’ know sugar, but if Dicky’s powers are involved, it could be anything. He doesn’t have fae power like us. His spirit isn’t of nature; isn’t of any clan I’ve seen. I worry that powers like that might be born of darkness, not because of him exactly, but somethin’ someone else musta done. I fear that sweet boy mighta been cursed.”

“Mama, no one woulda done that to him. He’s never done anything wrong.”

“Sometimes people do terrible things for old grudges. Magic is ancient, we are at our heart older than anything on this mortal plane, and that means that somethin’ that happened even a thousand years ago could still affect us now.”

Both women stayed silent as they thought about what had just passed between them. Curses and dark magic weren’t unheard of, especially in old families like theirs, but there was nothing that even his grandmother could think of to cause this. Maybe it wasn’t even a curse, maybe he was just really that wrong.

It hurt to think about, but what else was he supposed to do? Magic like his wasn’t anything his family knew how to deal with-- _he_ didn’t even know how to deal with it! Maybe there were people out there with powers like his who could help them, but none of them lived in Madison, or anywhere else in Georgia that he knew about. 

If he wanted help, he was going to have to look elsewhere. As he thought about it more, he almost missed the conversation start once again.

“Baby, I think we might have to consider sending that boy somewhere special for school next year. We both know he didn’t really want to stay here, but now I think he has a real reason to go.”

“He can probably go anywhere with how good he is at hockey, and most magic schools accept special cases like his more easily,” his mother added with newfound confidence. She had always had a lot of pride in his accomplishments, and hockey was definitely one of them.

“I don’t know that a magic school is what he really needs.” His Moomaw’s comment seemed to be ill fitting to the rest of the conversation.

“What do you mean, Mama? How is he supposed to get any better with his powers at a human school?”

“I don’t mean that and you know it, honey. There are mixed schools out there, ones that work especially in helping powerful children blend in. There’s a pretty famous one up north, I believe. I think it's called Samwell.”

“Do you think he should go there?”

“I think he should sure as hell try,” his grandmother finished.

At that moment, Eric suddenly felt his mind go fuzzy as he was ripped back from his mother’s head. Everything was too bright and loud as he felt himself return. This had never happened before, and he was finding himself wishing that it never happened again, if the recoil was always like this. He felt drained and loopy, sort of what he imagined a hangover might feel like, if he ever got the chance to have one.

Even after five minutes of not moving from his seat at the kitchen table, his mind was still adrift. He wasn’t even entirely sure who he was or what his body was supposed to feel like. Everything felt foreign and new, even though he was positive he was himself again. Eric was certain now that whatever had happened before with him reading his mother’s thoughts was not a fluke.

Things were definitely changing for him now, and he needed to get help for it. Hopefully this school that his grandmother mentioned would be the kind of place that he would actually benefit from. At this point, he wasn’t sure if anything could actually help him.

And yet, as he tried to piece himself back together inside his own mind, he felt like something had changed--like there was a fundamental difference inside of him, and with this change, everything would be new. His powers would no longer manifest like before, and he could practically feel them bubbling underneath his skin. Maybe he really was cursed after all, and whoever had cursed him wanted to see him destroy himself.

However, Eric was not allowed to follow this train of thought for much longer, as his mother finally reappeared in front of him. Then, as suddenly as the disorientation had appeared, he was normal again. His head was no longer fuzzy, his powers seemed to have returned to their normal muted state, and he couldn’t hear his mother’s thoughts or feel her emotions without reaching for them.

It all had gone back to normal, yet the feeling of power lingered inside of him, as if it was preparing to strike out once again at a moment’s notice. Eric was starting to really enjoy that feeling--as if maybe he was more than what he had thought before.

His powers were different, but did that mean they were bad? Who else could do what he had just done? He was worth more than what some assholes thought of him, so why shouldn’t he let his powers grow? It was an interesting thought in and of itself, but it didn’t really feel like it belonged to him.  
Since when had he been interested in power? He had always wanted to fit in, and fitting in meant having no powers, or at least normal ones. He looked up at his mother again, who apparently had been watching him this whole time.

“Dicky, sweetheart, I think this weekend we should drive down to your MooMaw’s to see if we can’t help see exactly how your powers have been changing. You’re almost 18 after all, so it’s also probably about time you learn some family traditions before you go away to school.”

His mother appeared to be significantly less concerned than before she left the room, but this time around he couldn’t read her. Whatever was going on with his powers was pulling them in and out at random times, which made it difficult to judge exactly what was happening.

“Yeah Mama, we should do that. I’ve been meaning to make her a few new recipes anyway.”

“Alright sweetheart, I’ll make sure to tell your father when he gets back from work.”

“Sounds good. How about I just clean up in here and we can figure out when we’re leaving and everything while we make dinner?”

“Thank you so much honey,” she said with genuine affection as she once again began to exit the room. “Oh, and Dicky, one more thing. Make sure to be careful about where you’re cutting things, you have a little nick on your hand there,” she added with a quick point of her finger towards his left hand.

“Huh,” he thought, “when did that happen?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)!  
> Feel free to leave comments and kudos.


	3. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomaw always has the answers, even when she doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just keeps going places I didn't expect.  
> \---------------  
> P.S. - Come check me out on tumblr at Ittsybittsybunny  
> Also, special thanks to my Betas Danya (who teaches me about magic and witches) and Mo (who fixes my grammar) :)!

“Dicky honey, I want you to try using your powers on me,” his MooMaw said as he and his mother sat in her living room in southern Georgia. They had arrived there earlier that morning at about 10 o’clock. The trip from Madison hadn’t been too long, but Eric had worried the whole way down.

“What do you want me to do, MooMaw?” he asked, as his grandmother continued to stare at him reassuringly from across the room.

“Whatever you normally do sweetheart, then we can see if there’s any wiggle room from what you usually experience.”

“Okay,” he replied with a slow nod. Eric still wasn’t entirely sure what his grandmother was expecting him to do, but he was used to having to improvise around her. She had a tendency to be a very strange woman at times. He figured it was the magic in her blood. That, or the abundance of sugar from her pies.

Eric thought for a moment about what exactly to show his grandmother. He knew that she would want to know everything that had been changing, but he wasn’t sure how to even begin to access some of his new powers. His best choice would probably be to start with simply trying to read her thoughts.

From his spot in his grandmother’s sitting room, he began to reach out towards her with his mind. At first, he noticed nothing other than the usual static thoughts and emotions that people would project towards him, but when he concentrated harder, he began to feel like there was a fog drifting out from his body to his grandmother’s.

The fog had no color and existed only in his head, but Eric could follow its movements exactly. It slowly flowed in tendrils of power closer and closer to his grandmother, until it finally began to creep its way up to her head. As soon as the fog had covered her body completely, he felt once again like he was no longer himself.

Every breath she took was his own, and every thought she had passed through his head. Though he didn’t feel like anything was happening to him, through her seasoned eyes, he could see himself surrounded in a glowing haze. It was all too similar to the fog he had been attempting to command moments ago. Maybe the fog had been more real than he thought, but it was strange that his grandmother couldn’t see the trail coming to and surrounding her.

“Dicky, you can hear me, can’t you?” his grandmother asked, but the words came from within her own head. She knew he was there, when his mother hadn’t.

“Yes, MooMaw,” he tried to think back. It was strange to try to speak outside of your own body. Nothing felt normal, or physical.

As he looked through his grandmother’s eyes, he realized that his mother was looking between the two of them rapidly. Apparently, his attempt to telepathically communicate with his MooMaw had resulted in him causing her to speak aloud.

“Eric Richard Bittle,” he heard abruptly from within his mind, “if you ever try that again with me, you will be sorry.”

There was no leeway within his grandmother’s voice. This was the sound of a woman who would put up with zero shit, even from her own beloved grandchild going through a rough patch. She believed in tough love, and in this situation he was fairly sure whatever approach she thought best, really would be the ideal course of action.

“Sorry, MooMaw,” he tried again. This time his increased focus seemed to do the trick.

“Better.” She replied. “We have to work on your mental communication, can’t have ya accidentally making people look crazy for talking t’ themselves every time they get a little too excited and pull you in. Then again, we don’t wantchya getting’ pulled in by anyone at all.”

MooMaw paused to think for a moment before continuing, “Is this the only thing that’s new? You can hear better and talk t’ people.”

Eric was confused at this. His grandmother, one of the strongest witches he had ever encountered, could not tell that he was literally in her mind right now. He had controlled her voice before, but she had seemed to assume that was simply a part of his telepathy rather than the fact that, as far as he was concerned, they were the same person at the moment.

“Yeah, MooMaw,” he lied. If she couldn’t tell he was there, it was best to keep it that way so she wouldn’t worry further. That, and he didn’t want to get yelled at for intruding in places he really shouldn’t be. It was simply an exercise in self-preservation.

His grandmother seemed to still then, as if at the exact moment he had spoken, she had been ready to say something else, but had inexplicably stopped. He decided not to dwell on it as he focused on returning to his body. As soon as MooMaw began to stand up from where she had been seated on her couch, he felt himself flung back to where he belonged. This time, the dizzy, static-y feeling only lasted for a few seconds before he felt refocused and energized once more.

Maybe he was getting control over whatever this was, or at least it was starting to affect him less.

After fully regaining his bearings, he looked up to see his grandmother speaking to his mother. Neither woman seemed particularly agitated as they spoke, and he could not feel an excess of emotion. He assumed his grandmother was simply explaining what had just happened and chose to focus elsewhere in the house.

Eric could not sense anyone else here, which was odd. His grandmother was the head witch of the area, and there was almost always a magical creature or two milling about. Pixies and brownies usually lingered about her yard somewhere, so their presence was missed. However, weirdest of all was the absence of his grandfather.

His Papa was not particularly strong in his own right, but the older gentleman was an excellent potions maker, which essentially made up for what he lacked in physical magic. The fact that he was not around tending to his herbs or brewing a concoction was truly strange. It was as if his MooMaw had expected Eric to be out of control and had warned everyone away. Why had she done that? Did she think she couldn’t trust him?

Once again, as his family matriarchs began to move towards him, he was pulled out of his thoughts.

“Dicky, honey, your grandmother and I were wondering if we could take you out back to the potions shed? We just want to check a couple things, and then we were thinking that we could help you practice some warding magic. You know, just some things that could be useful for you next year when you’re away at school.” 

His mother smiled at him then, but it was hollow and failed to reach her eyes. Something was going on and neither his mother nor his grandmother was willing to tell him. However, he trusted his family, so after a quick nod, he followed both women out to the backyard.

Other than the lack of magical life, nothing was particularly out of order outside of the house. Even the potions shed, which was actually closer to the size of a two-car garage, seemed normal besides its emptiness. Upon entering the building, he did notice one other small change, which would have gone completely over his head had he not already been focusing more than usual. His grandmother, as well as his grandfather, had both increased the wards in the area.

Whatever was going on definitely had everyone worried.

“Sweetheart,” MooMaw began, “we brought you out here because we were unsure whether or not someone was listening in on the house.”

“What do you mean listening in? Is someone spying on you?”

“Not exactly honey,” his mother added. “We think someone or something is following you. Or rather...has cursed you.”

“What do you mean _cursed_ me? Does it have anything to do with my new powers?”

MooMaw spoke again. “It might, sweetheart, but I can’t tell for sure. This curse is old, far older than our oldest known relatives even. You know that we’ve lived here in America for hundreds of years, back when it was still colonies?”

He nodded.

“Well, sweetie, most magical families like ours came to America with hundreds of years of tradition behind them. But, when we came, we brought nothing with us. I always assumed our ancestors had been fleeing anti-magical sentiment in Europe, but now I think it may have been something else entirely. Dicky, you know your mother’s sister, Aunt Carol, and my sisters, Claire and Diane?”

He nodded once again, though this time he was unsure of exactly where his grandmother was going.

“Well, my mother was an only child, and her mother was as well, and the cycle goes on and on all the way back to that first family that came t’ America. Every single one of their descendants was female, until you. Honey, you are the first male this family has ever had, and you’re the only one that isn’t a witch. That doesn’t just _happen_ with families like ours, and I fear that whatever is going on with you might relate all the way back to that first family. I think they were trying to outrun a curse, or at least confuse it.”

“So,” he began, “because I’m a boy, the curse has finally found us?”

“Yes, I think that is it exactly. All the witches in our family were female, but you are the first to be different in sex and power. I think whoever or whatever they were running from may have cursed the first born male son of this family, which would be you.”

“Is there anything you can do for him, Mama?” his mother finally butted in from her spot by the potions counter.

“I don’t know, baby. Curse magic is evil, and no one in our family has ever dared touch the stuff. I can ward him and teach him how to ward himself, but without knowin’ anything about the curse or its caster, there is so little I can do. Even if I did know, the best I could do was make more specific wards. As long as this curse is affectin’ only Dicky, I have no power over it.”

“So there is nothing we can really do?” his mother questioned as her eyes began to water.

“No baby, there really isn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)!  
> Feel free to leave comments and kudos.


	4. Grimoire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric learns some family magic, and prepares for Samwell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's almost to Samwell.  
> \---------------  
> P.S. - Come check me out on tumblr at Ittsybittsybunny  
> Also, special thanks to my Betas Danya (who teaches me about magic and witches) and Mo (who fixes my grammar) :)!

All three of them sat quietly in the potions shed, letting the weight of Moomaw’s words settle around them. Curses and dark magic were two things their family had always stayed far away from. They could ward Eric, and give him all he needed to keep those wards strong in college, but even the strongest wards in the world couldn’t break a curse. Curses had to be broken from the source, and considering that they had no idea where this curse was actually coming from or what it entailed, they couldn’t do anything.

The worst part of it all was that someone had hated their family enough to cast a curse in the first place. Curses and dark magic were nothing to sneeze at, especially because of the threefold law. Any magic cast against someone else would return to the caster three times stronger. Witches and almost all magical creatures kept this law close to their hearts and let it guide them in everything they did.

Karma was a bitch, and no one wanted to be bitten by something three times over. Whoever cast this curse was prepared to receive their just rewards. That takes hate. No one would willingly bring the backlash of a curse upon themselves without extreme loathing, because that detestation is what breeds evil. Hate was something Eric’s family had always warned him about.

It was hard sometimes, not to want to hate people, especially considering how many of them had treated him over the years. People from all aspects of his life had harassed him and knocked him down. He had been locked in closets over night, and in a figurative sense, his whole life. The world around him constantly seemed to bring him down.

So yeah, Eric had a lot of reason to hate, but he did his best to keep himself far away from that. Eric tried to stay above it all by being kind and considerate. He baked pies and worked at summer camps. He was the loyal captain of his co-ed hockey team, and he tried his hardest to do good in the world. It hurt so much sometimes that the world never seemed to want to do good back. 

And now, after all that good he had tried so hard to bring into the world, it had come back three times to curse him instead. 

“Sweetheart,” his mother began, interrupting the sullen silence of the room, “you can’t give up hope just because of a little curse. We don’t know what it’s doing, but if all that’s happening is that your powers are changing a bit, then who’s to say that it’s really bad? We can work on some wards, practice some magic, and see if we can’t find you somewhere to learn to control your powers.”

“You mean Samwell?” he asked, looking up to meet her eyes.

“Oh, yes, Dicky,” his grandmother cut in. “Did your mother already tell you?”

Eric blanched. His mother hadn’t told him yet. All he knew was what he had overheard from the phone call between his MooMaw and her. What was he supposed to tell them about how he had known? As far as they knew, and he was willing to tell them, his powers hadn’t done anything that unusual.

“I…I-uh…overheard you on the phone the other day talking. I didn’t hear much; just that you thought it might be a good place.”

“Dicky, eavesdropping like that is rude,” his mother chided. “Apologize right now.”

“Sorry, Mama. Sorry MooMaw. I shouldn’t have done that, “he replied sheepishly.

His grandmother scowled, searching for something in his features. “You aren’t the kind t’ do that honey…But what’s done is done. We have more important things to do right now.”

“Well, honey,” his mother began, “your grandmother and I think Samwell University in Massachusetts might be a good place for you. It’s a mixed school, you know, founded by magic users as a place for magical children and humans alike to learn. The whole campus is not too far from Boston either, so you would have plenty of places to visit. Massachusetts in general is home to a lot of old magic as well.”

After a beat, his grandmother continued, “The headmistress who founded it is actually half-elf, so she still runs the place. I don’t know if there is a school in the world, or the United States at least, that will have a better chance of helping you with your powers and your curse. I know I can definitely write her a letter and use my clout as the head witch here to plead your case for acceptance, so getting in shouldn’t be a problem. However, the school is unfortunately more expensive than others.”

“Dicky, honey,” his mother added with a half smile, “we think with your skill in hockey, you might be able to get a sports scholarship. I know you always preferred figure skating, but would you be willing to try?”

“Mama, if you think it will help, I definitely will,” he answered honestly.

He would always be willing to help out his family, and with the situation as it was, he would really be helping himself out anyway. Samwell could help him learn to control his powers, and from what he knew of Massachusetts, he might have an easier time being himself in other ways as well. Plus, college was notoriously a more accepting place than high school.

His mother smiled back at him then, trying to cover her fears and doubts about the situation. He could feel so many mixed emotions wafting off her, but he knew better than to mention it. If he didn’t get a scholarship, he wouldn’t be able to pay for Samwell, but if he did, he would be so far away from his family. He wouldn’t have his mother to offer friendship and support; his grandmother wouldn’t be there with magical advice and wisdom. Eric would be alone at Samwell. With everything changing, he didn’t know if going would make things better or worse, but he felt that he owed it to himself to try.

“Alright, Dicky, we need to start on warding magic then, if you plan on going. I know your powers aren’t very strong in this regard, so we’ll have to work twice as hard,” his grandmother said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Of course, MooMaw, what do we need to do?”

“First off, you’ll need this.” His grandmother held out a thin bracelet she had pulled from seemingly nowhere. It was a simple, braided leather cord that featured an eye shaped stone at the center. The stone itself was a rather pretty shade of deep maroon, but the eye pattern that adorned it seemed to stare at him in a way that was far too realistic.

“It’s an eye agate,” his mother offered, while his grandmother clasped the bracelet around his wrist. “It guards against dark spirits and evil. The eye should ward away harm...or at least, we hope it will. There’s no telling with curses, after all.” 

Eric rubbed his fingers across the smoothly polished stone. From within its center he could feel a slight pull, like he could get lost staring down at it. His grandparents had both used magic to alter the stone’s original format of protection. He doubted anyone he knew could harm him as long as the stone was present, and for that, he was thankful.

As he looked up to thank his grandmother, he realized she had walked back into the far room of the shed where his Papa stored their herbs. He couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but he assumed she was beginning to gather the ingredients he would need to learn basic warding. He expected her to return with carnation and dogwood for all around protection and secret-keeping, since the two together could be used as basic magic to protect an entire household.

He was partially right, recognizing some of the flowers in her bundles, but his grandmother had brought far more than just two ingredients back with her, and after she placed her current collection on the table, she went back for more. Whatever his grandmother intended to teach him would require much more work than usual.

Finally, after MooMaw had traveled back and forth to the storage room six times, she seemed to be ready. “That should be all of it I think. And you’ll need a mortar and pestle for grinding,” she added as she searched the room. “Probably a small cauldron as well, though you can use regular pots if you’d prefer. Bottles…medicine droppers…salt…a ladle…an application brush…a few spray containers…and last but not least--a grimoire.”

Eric had been listening intently as his grandmother rushed about the room, grabbing each item she listed, before stopping at a magically locked cabinet as she uttered the last words. A grimoire was one of the most sacred magical objects in a witch’s family. Most were passed down from generation to generation, gathering more and more knowledge over the years.

As she hummed quietly, a strange tune laced with power, the cabinet doors clicked open to reveal multiple cloth-covered objects. Each one was wrapped in twine adorned with various beads and charms. Whatever the bundles contained must have been ancient and powerful, based on his knowledge of runes. After a moment of looking, MooMaw appeared to have found the right one.

The ancient looking leather-wrapped book his grandmother pulled from underneath the cloth most likely contained hundreds of years of family knowledge of spells, potions, creatures, artifacts, and so much more. Normally such important family knowledge was kept with the family matriarch and only passed on upon her death. 

This book was far more important than any cookbook his family had offered him previously, and he did _not_ feel ready.

“Eric Richard Bittle,” his grandmother addressed him. “This grimoire belonged to your grandfather’s family and was passed to him from generations of strong magic users. After the death of his father, the book came into our possession. Because I’m the head witch of the family, I have never needed it. However, I think we can finally put it to some good use.”

As she spoke, Eric got a better look at the book. The dark brown leather shone with age and power against its blackened silver bindings. At its very center, set deeply into the leather, was a darkened crystal that glowed with red and purple as the light passed over it. This kind of magic was powerful, bordering on dark, even; the kind of magic that had been influenced by each family member over the centuries. It brimmed with secrets held within its pages. 

They called to him.

“Is it safe for me to use?” Eric questioned, skeptical.

“Of course, darling,” his grandmother said, eying him warily, eyebrows risen slightly. “I’ve been over it many times. It’s not entirely unlike my own copy, though the personal family touches mean things are arranged differently. There are some spots that are a tad unusual, but nothing is particularly out of place. Why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing really, it just feels strange, is all.”

“It is extremely old, so it’s not impossible for you to feel residual magical energy. But that’s about it.”

“Alright,” he replied as she placed the book into his hands. 

It didn’t feel wrong, or evil, just odd. Kind of like when Eric got a haircut and ran his hands through his hair, only to stop short of where he’d expected. His muscle memory knew how far he used to drag his fingertips to reach the ends of his hair, but now everything is different. It’s not a big change, but to Eric in that moment, it meant everything in the world.

Maybe he was just overthinking things again. Without another thought, he opened the book to the first page, only slightly expecting something to jump out. When nothing did, he looked up to his grandmother for instructions. He had a lot to learn before he left for Samwell, assuming he could even get in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)!  
> Feel free to leave comments and kudos.


	5. Welcome to Samwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty finally makes his start at school!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story continues!  
> \-----  
> P.S. - Come check me out on tumblr at Ittsybittsybunny  
> Also, this chapter is currently unbeta'd

It was probably a good thing that Eric had significantly more understanding of hockey then he did of magic, otherwise his family’s whole plan would have fallen through. He needed Samwell just as desperately as his family wanted him to go there. So, while his months of waiting for acceptance had technically been brief in the grand scheme of things, they had been torture. There was only so much time he could spend learning and practicing with his grandmother before things started to drive him nuts.

Reading through his grandfather’s grimoire barely ever made a dent in his anticipation for his letter, and each day before its arrival added a new level of anxiety. If things fell through for him, he could go to a magical school here in Georgia, but the university would not only be privately magical, but most likely filled with memories of his life before Maddison. Having only one magical school in the state would mean everyone who knew his family would be there.

Plus, private magical schools, especially in places known for old magic, had a long history of being factories for conservatism and narrow mindedness. As with any subgroup of people, there was always one faction that believed in their own superiority, and unfortunately, the magical community was notorious for their views on non-magical inferiority. Even some of his family participated in such notions. 

Eric’s uncle Chris had even gone as far as to tell him that he would never speak to Eric again if he ever brought home a human girl to meet the family. At the time, Eric had simply smiled awkwardly at his uncle, but in his own head he had laughed at the thought of what would happen if he brought home a human boy. Go big or go home.

He wasn’t sure which would be received the worst; however, a human girl or a magical boy. Realistically a human girl would bring rage from some parts of his family, but a magical boy was sure to cause a stalemate on both sides. The family would probably need a moment to reboot and revaluate the situation. A human boy might get him promptly kicked out. It was hard enough to think of one caveat on his love life, but two made everything harder.

It wasn’t right for anyone to judge who he wanted to love, and it definitely wasn’t right to rank the possibilities in some kind of order. All of it added right into the frightful combination of his future. Here in Georgia, there was so much expected of how he would live his life and who he might be in the future.

He would never inherit his MooMaw’s place as a head witch or any other type of magical leader, but a tight nit community meant that his business was everyone else’s as well. If he had a strained relationship with his family, the chances of him being harassed by anyone he met raised exponentially. Eric couldn’t stay in Georgia if he wanted to be happy, or at the very least sane.

So Eric spent increasingly more days trapped in his own head by worry over his powers, his lessons with his MooMaw, and just his future in general. His acceptance letter could not come soon enough.

\-----

April 7, 2013 may have made its way to the list of top five greatest moments in all of Eric Richard Bittle’s young life. It had started out as any other, he went to school, came home and helped out his mother, called his MooMaw, and worked on homework, both magical and regular. Then, as soon as his mother called him down to dinner, he felt a change in the air. With every step he took downstairs to the kitchen, the anticipation grew.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he could have passed out from the force of the feeling. As he entered the kitchen, he finally understood what was going on. There, seated at the table, were both of his parents and a letter. The kind of thick legal sized package of a letter that never held a rejection. This was the kind of letter that held his future, bright and pure as freshly fallen snow.

“We’re so proud of you Dicky,” his mother began, smiling as she held back tears.

“You did a good job son,” his father added.

“Is that what I think it is,” Eric asked as he trembled with compounding emotion. His parent’s feelings of love and pride were filling the room and his own excitement as he saw the red Samwell emblem on the letter’s cover was beginning to overflow.

“You did it sweetheart, you’re in.”

\-----

Eric spent the entire summer preparing himself for school. Everyday was a mix of magic lessons, constant levels of packing and repacking his personal items and kitchenware. Soon enough he was sure he’d be taking an entire moving van up to school if he wasn’t careful. 

He had pie dishes, clothing, books, and most importantly the grimoire and all of its accompanying supplies. His MooMaw and mother had spent endless amounts of time teaching him how best to gather ingredients and what might be important for him in the future.

A first snowfall could be used to bless new endeavors. Four leaf clovers could be made into a tea for luck. Sleeping with different crystals under his pillow could charge his emotions. There was so much to learn with so little time, but as the summer drew to a close and he began his final preparations.

Going to Samwell was going to fix everything.

\-----

When Eric (now Bitty) first entered the hockey Haus, he felt both undeniably nervous and excited (and also slightly grossed out). The Haus itself had a stinky sent of beer and a general stickiness all together. Combine that with the hygiene of college athletes and a hybrid smell of emotions ranging on the upper levels of absurd, and you have one crazy place. 

In particular though, Bitty felt the collective excitement of Shitty, their Haus guide, and his fellow frogs. Really he should know better by now than to let himself be so affected. Then again, he did now technically have access to a fulltime kitchen, so there wasn’t too much of a problem.

That is until he let himself be pushed just a little too much by the various emotional waves running through the Haus. If asked about it later, Bitty would totally blame Mandy and Jenny, the nosey ghosts in residence. But either way, Bitty was the one who let himself get carried away.

Besides, everyone enjoyed the impromptu pie, regardless of its sudden appearance and magical origins. 

It might have been a good thing though. The boys seemed to like him more because of its presence, he could tell from their enthusiastic shouts alone. What he was having trouble telling was who was like him.

Who at the Haus had magic? He could feel the Haus ghosts, he could feel the general magic of the school, but no matter how much Bitty tried, it felt like someone or something was blocking him from being able to sort out the other magic users and creatures at the school. Really, if they were going to be a team, they should all know.

He might have to use his powers to check on that later. Surely no one would mind him knowing, since they would all have magic. And as for the humans, they wouldn’t even be able to tell anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)!  
> Feel free to leave comments and kudos.


	6. What would have happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the story (in outline) as it would have happened if I still actually felt like I could finish this fic...sorry

Kitchen Witch Plot points:

Chapter 2:  
• Told about schools that can help  
• Learn about Samwell from all seeing grandma

Chapter 3:  
• Bitty having to relearn how to control his powers  
• Fits and starts  
• At Moomaw’s  
• Curse

Chapter 4:   
• (REALIZE PHYSICAL REPERCUSSIONS SOONER RATHER THAN LATER – not all are cuts though – all depending on how bad of a thing he did – like pimples, small cuts, headaches – repercussion are also the evil)  
• Talk more about family traditions/warding  
• Samwell talk  
• Is Expensive

Chapter 5:

• Tries for hockey scholarship  
• If not, would go to a magic school in the south  
• Gets scholarship!  
• Tentative peace with family  
• Samwell bound

\-----

• Half magical school  
• Magical pies  
• So excited/nervous makes one appear in the kitchen

Chapter 6  
• Has to learn his powers and checking issues  
• Gets agitated during checking practice  
• Freaks them both out  
• Jack shifts  
• Can't shift back - is scared and wild  
• Bitty calms him down and shifts him back  
• Causes them to have a tentative peace, but gets destroyed after the score in front of his dad  
• Loses confidence again (powers and hockey)  
• Comes out to Shitty as gay and magic  
• Shitty is human, but like he’s seen shit marijuana can’t hide  
• Meets Lardo and is super scared because he recognized her hunter bracelet  
• Confronts Shitty about it  
• Shitty is just like “Dude she watches over us, keeps us from doing all kinds of stupid shit, especially the magical kind”  
• Playoffs happen and concussion messes with Bitty’s powers  
• Jack surprised Bitty wanted him to be captain after everything that happened with them and concussion  
• CONCUSSION IS A 3X KARMA BACKLASH 

Chapter 6:  
• Comes back from summer and concussion  
• Has to relearn to control powers around team  
• Restart checking practice, even after what happened  
• Jack and Bitty getting along better  
• Getting better at controlling powers, checking practice helps with that  
• Jack working on his control  
• Meet the frogs!!!  
• Struggle of choosing NHL teams  
• Georgia knows about magic, that why she helps him settle on Providence  
• Bitty and Jack cooking  
• Bitty scared he will project his feelings of love  
• Jack can’t like him back, it would be him projecting

Chapter 7:  
• Parse the incubus shows up  
• He can influence Jacks powers  
• He knows about Jack’s shifting  
• Incubuses attach themselves to objects of their attraction  
• Stuck on Jack  
• Jack feels like he was used by Kent  
• Kent feels the same way about Jack  
• Bitty can feel the rage and emotion and love and projected emotion  
• Gets a glimpse of Kent and Jacks thoughts – is pulled in by the emotions – can see through jack’s eyes  
• Kent’s last ditch attempt is to try to seduce Jack  
• Is ashamed for overhearing  
• As Kent leaves – hears him think, “Why do I always do that. I don’t want this.”

Chapter 8:  
• Spring semester  
• Jack and Bitty reconcile  
• Talk about powers  
• Jack seems to be in a better place  
• Frozen four  
• When they lose, helps Jack stabilize his mood  
• Proof he is in control  
• Worries Jack might not like relying on Bitty  
• Worries about projecting emotions  
• Go on the roof  
• Feels everyone’s happiness  
• In control of himself

Chapter 9:  
• Crazy prep for finals  
• Sad about graduation  
• Worried about projecting sadness onto others  
• Wants to tell Jack  
• Wants to read Jack's mind  
• Won’t do it though  
• Leaves  
• Feels a strange disturbance in the force  
• Jack realized his love  
• Jack projecting  
• Practically shifting trying to get to Bitty  
• THE KISS  
• Bitty projects extreme love and happiness  
• Jack recognizes the separation between his emotions and Bitty’s projection  
• Realizes that as long as he is in tune with his wolf, he and Bitty don’t have to worry about manipulating each other  
• Bitty is so happy because he worried he made Jack love him  
• Everyone is happy


End file.
